


The Things You Do to Me

by kristantinople



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, Love, M/M, Prison Sex, Quiet Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 00:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21485434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristantinople/pseuds/kristantinople
Summary: Mayonaise?!AKA I rewrote the scene from 10×02 to how it should have played out. My boys are back and I am so happy I fired up my old fandom blog to wax poetic over Mickey Milkovich.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 7
Kudos: 194





	The Things You Do to Me

A cough coming from the cell next door wakes Ian up that morning. He tried to cling on to the last remaining bits of his dream-- tight, warm heat and strong thighs above him, riding him into his soft Chicago bed.

Ian groans as the memory fades away, and wakes back up to the reality in front of him; He had eighteen months left on his prison sentence for arson, to be served at Menard Correctional Institution in southern Illinois.

Right alongside his cellmate, Mickey Milkovich.

His hand naturally wanders to his own dick, at full stiffness and tenting his underwear. He gives it a slow tug and pleasure radiates from low in his belly. Down below, Mickey murmurs softly in his sleep as he shuffles and rolls over to face the wall.

Ian swings a leg over the end of his bunk.

He drops down almost silently, glances a look out the glass window of their cell and sees nothing, then crawls into bed with Mickey.

Mickey could only manage a soft _hmm_ when his bed dipped at the weight of Ian coming up beside him. Ian saw him begin to rouse, so he quietly wrapped his arms around him and snuggled into Mickey's form. He pressed a gentle wet kiss to the back of Mickey's neck.

This was no doubt Mickey's favorite way to wake up, especially given his current circumstance. Every morning since their reunion, before the morning alarm buzzed loudly through the cells and all the lights came on to start the day, Ian would crawl into bed with Mickey and make love to him inside the quiet confines of his bottom bunk. It was their only alleviation from the harsh reality of prison, and they were finally fighting the world together instead of apart.

He smiled into the pillow under his cheek when he feels Ian's erection press into the small of his back.

"_Shh.._." Ian whispered, peppering soft kisses in between his perfect shoulder blades.

His dry lips sent shivers that turned into goosebumps down Mickey's back. Ian's hands couldn't help but skim down Mickey's sides and stomach, admiring his sleep-heavy boyfriend in the dim glow of the hallway lights outside. He pulled in close, snaked his hands down Mickey's belly, feeling his muscles contracting under his prison-issue singlet.

Mickey reaches up to run his fingers through Ian's short hair, recently cut and finally free of oppressive black dye. Mickey liked it so much more when Ian was sporting his natural color. It reminded him of fire, a perfect compliment to his boyfriend's hot temper and fiery passion for the things he surrounded himself with in life.

Ian scooted closer until his cock was pressed flush against Mickey's backside. If given a choice, Ian could spend all day spooned up with Mickey to play with his ass; He had dreams of teasing Mickey for hours like they did that last year together, so long ago now. He'd start first with his fingers, than his tongue, teasing before finally pressing into Mickey while they rolled through waves of pleasure together. They didn't have time for that right now, though, and Mickey had a plan for what to do with their short allotment of time. His firm grab for Ian's thigh spurred the redhead to press on.

Even though they were now united, physically so close after not knowing if either one would ever see the other again, prison was dangerous, and they had to be more careful now than ever before. Prison was not the place to make loud and passionate love. As much as he missed the way Mickey threw his head back whenever Ian fucked him just right, found that perfect spot inside of him that touched his fucking soul, moaning expletives wrapped around Ian's name on his tongue, they couldn't risk it. It wasn't safe to let others in their cell block know just how much Mickey liked to take it.

_"Gotta keep quiet, baby. You gonna be so good and quiet for me?"_

Mickey moaned into the pillow underneath him.

_"That's my good boy, be so quiet while I take care of you,_" Ian nuzzled into the nape of his neck and breathed in his lover's smell.

Underneath the always-present smell of commercial-grade laundry soap and bleach that Mickey came back with after his job assignment, was the intoxicating smell of Mickey himself. Ian remembers the last time on the outside he'd breathed in Mickey's scent; That morning in the van, the day before he made the biggest mistake of his life and left Mickey to cross the Mexican border by himself. He replayed those few precious days in his mind over and over again in the times he was sure he'd never see Mickey ever again.

He reached over to the little cubby beside Mickey's bed, slipped his hand between a stack of books and stashed sandwich condiments for a little foil pack of lube Ian had swiped from the infirmary.

It had taken a few weeks before Ian was cleared in the intake system for general population and job assignment. At first, Ian had been put at the front desk of the prison infirmary, where his duties included having the officer escorting a prisoner to the infirmary sign him in, take his blood pressure and fill out paper work for the system before printing out an infirmary wrist band and sending them back to the hospital ward. It was monotonous, but something Ian had done so many times as part of the routine of being an EMT. Many times, Ian would find himself day dreaming about actually doing paperwork at his old hub on the West Side of Chicago, instead of at Menard Correctional down in fucking Chester.

He had only been doing take in for two weeks when the prison's charge nurse had a rare chat with him and realized the extent of Ian Gallagher's medical knowledge. This woman was in her late 60s, tough as nails and her words sharp as a tack. Her take-no-shit attitude endeared her to Ian, and apparently the nurse liked him well enough to request he be moved into the infirmary itself to help out doing patient rotations.

It now afforded him the luxury of access to medical supplies, and though everything down to the last tongue depressor was meticulously counted by a prison staff always weary of prisoner contraband, the disposable nature of single-use lube packets meant Ian had been able to smuggle out a packet here or there whenever he was alone with a patient and a catheter (more common than one might think, it's amazing the things prisoners will stick up their penis in an attempt to get attention or medication from medical staff).

With Mickey still grinding his ass, his prison-issue boxers pulled down to expose a single alabaster white butt cheek, against Ian's stiff morning wood, Ian licked and kissed down Mickey's shoulder blade one last time before tearing off the corner of the foil with his teeth and spit it out before squeezing some of its contents onto his fingers. He stashed the rest of their liquid gold in the shelf before laying back down over his beautiful man.

He wasted no time in bringing his two fingers up to Mickey's entrance. They had only a little time before lights on and bed checks and the commotion of the next day interrupted their precious time alone together. He pushed his digits in nice and slow, let Mickey's ass pull his fingers into tight heat as he wiggled his fingers and pivoted his wrist to get him all lubed up and ready.

A low throaty moan escaped Mickey lips when Ian pulled away his fingers to apply the remaining lube to his cock, so Ian pressed closer into him, strong hands gripping Mickey's rippled back and shoulder muscles. God, Mickey was so strong, lean muscle everywhere under milky white skin. Ian could hold on forever.

"_Shh.._" he whispered again, "You look amazing like this, Mick."

He pressed his face into the crook of Mickey's neck, hot breaths exchanged between them as Ian carefully slid all the way in. Mickey gnawed on his bottom lip to keep quiet. They usually started out at this slow place, with an ear kept alert for sounds in the direction of the glass cell window in front of their bunks. Luckily the bed frame itself was steel shelving, bolted to the walls and floor, so fucking here was actually much quieter than in either Mickey or Ian's childhood beds. The dingy prison-issue mattress left a lot to be desired in the way of sleeping, but at least the sounds of the mattress scooting along the bed's platform was largely silent.

"_God_, Gallagher, the things you do to me," Mickey crooned. He pushed his hips back in time to meet Ian's thrusts.

Moments like this is where their relationship can fall so perfectly back into place without all the anguish and heartbreak involved in talking out their problems. This right here, this primal, physical dance they had done for eight years now had forever changed these men and their place in the universe as a result of crossing paths. Here, together in a prison cell, they crashed headlong into the chaos left behind in the place where it all started, in a small, rundown neighborhood back on the South Side of Chicago.

Ian grabbed onto both sides of Mickey's chest and bracketed his thighs over Mickey's perfect pale ass, watched as his cock slid in and out of a tight ring of muscles that clenched around him with every drag. Mickey pushed his head down farther into the pillow and rolled his hips to meet Ian's pace. Mickey's face was hot pressed into the very corner of his bunk, and he had some trouble getting air into his lungs with his face mushed into the pillow, a gasp stuck in his throat. But the heat pooling in his belly and throbbing in his balls was almost enough to bring him to the brink in record time.

Ian pulled the fat head of his dick out almost all the way, until he could see Mickey's hole clenching around it, begging to be filled again. He pressed his cock in firmly and sank to the hilt with a quick snap of his hips.

Mickey yelped and bit into the pillow.

"Shh, I've got you," Ian whispered into the small space between them.

While one hand still holding Mickey's hip in a firm grip, guiding his thrusts to keep the angle perfect, Ian reached with his other for Mickey's aching cock, trapped between Mickey's belly and the rough sheets underneath them. Beads of precum smeared over Ian's knuckles as he took Mickey into his hand and jerked him off at a quick pace. They didn't have much time.

Mickey came up for air and twisted his neck around to steal a kiss from Ian. Ian smiled into his kiss and ground down even harder, willing his man to spill over the edge.

" '_mgonnacome, Ian_," is all he gasped out, voice sex-rough in his throat.

_"Come for me, baby, doing so good for me,"_ Ian panted into his ear.

Ian pushed Mickey's shoulders down into the pillow one last time, hips rolling in tandem with the quick pumps of his fist over Mickey's cock. Mickey's thighs were trembling under him as his orgasm leached forward. His eyes squeezed shut and he bit hard into his lip one last, painful time to tamper down his moan as he spilled into Ian's fist and all over the top of his sheets.

Ian screwed his eyes shut and focused on the familiar squeeze of Mickey spasming underneath him, chased the feeling of Mickey clamping down on him to ride out the wave of his orgasm as Ian tumbled over the edge right behind. His lips landed on the soft skin where Mickey's ear meets his jaw, and for just a moment Ian longed to suck and kiss a bruise right there to claim him. Instead, he pulled Mickey to roll over in his arms. Mickey went easily onto his back, completely sated from his release.

They stared at each other in the dark for a beat, then almost simultaneously went into for a deep kiss. They cradled each other in their hands and held on tight to each other as if their lives depended on it. In a huge way, it did.

Mickey's tongue was the first to poke in between Ian's lips, and Ian could feel where Mickey's lips were swollen and cracked in several spots where Mickey had chewed up his lip between his teeth. Ian licked over them to soothe, sought out the comfort and familiarity of Mickey's lips on his. Too long, too long they had spent apart when they should have been side by side.

The buzzer sounded and the light on the ceiling flickered on. Another day at Menard Correctional had began.


End file.
